Adventure Time: Beck and Call
by osborne2521
Summary: With nearly all of his normal friends having traveled to the far corners of Ooo for various affairs, Finn the Human finds himself wiling away the hours on Marceline's couch. Hours turn to days, and lazy afternoons into grand adventures, but the most unexpected escalation, may be the feelings between two friends. FinnxMarceline(?).
1. Chapter 1: A Rainy Afternoon

Adventure Time: Beck and Call

Chapter 1: A Rainy Afternoon

Finn sat on the couch in Marceline's cave house, lazily patting his stomach and listening through the closed window. Even in the center of a cave, he could hear the pouring rain from outside. He wanted to crack the window, but it was cool enough in the house, and he was feeling too lazy to move. The couch, though nearly older than time itself, had new cushions, as the old ones had been impossibly hard. The young man remembered well, the many years he had spent lazing about on that couch. Once upon a time, he had had more than enough room to stretch out on it. Now, several years later, he had grown to nearly adult-Finn size, while the couch seemed to get smaller. Even so, it was comfortable; familiar, secure. Not unlike Marceline herself. "Huh...', he drawled, absentmindedly. 'What a weird thought..."

"What's a weird thought?", her voice, dark yet cheerful rose up in tandem with her tall form, appearing from behind the couch, her shadow slinking across him. The vampire had tried to catch him off guard. It hadn't worked.

"Huh?', he muttered, looking up at her pale but pretty face, and into her red, sometimes gray eyes. 'Oh, nothing. My brain stuff was just thinking aloud."

The girl looked down at him pleasantly, blowing some unruly strands of midnight-colored hair out of her face. She sighed. "Finn... you're so quiet today. It's boring." She pretended to pout, effortlessly gliding over the couch and hovering next to him, as if the nature of gravity had never been explained to her, and thus, held no sway in her presence.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, Marcy. Just kinda feeling sorta, y'know...", he trailed off, blowing a raspberry at nothing in particular.

The older girl's smile began to fade. Sometimes Finn got into weird moods, and others he just laid about as if he were a radio with a low battery, and all the music came through a sluggish and static-y filter. She'd seen this before. It wasn't quite a funk, but nonetheless it would be difficult to shake him out of. The boy had always been like this, ever since she had known him. Now, he was very nearly a man, and although his body had grown bigger and stronger, and his mind too, albeit in a lesser measure, he was still very much the same boy that she had known back then. Marceline suspected that this, more than anything, was what appealed to her.

Though only barely, Finn took notice of the dark beauty's prolonged silent gaze, and lifted his head up. "Hey Marceline, what'chya lookin at?"

This shook her from her thoughts, and she felt a slight heat in her cheeks; an unusual feeling as blood seldom did circulate in her long dead veins. "Uh... just thinking is all.', she shook off the feeling. 'You wanna jam some?" A distraction. That was good.

Finn shrugged, patting his stomach some more. "Eh. I'm kinda good to just chill for a while. But if you feel like rockin the block, go ahead."

She really didn't feel like rocking, but refrained from saying so. The truth was, Marceline wasn't sure WHAT she wanted to do, but anything was bound to be better than watching Finn play bongos on his stomach that had been noticeably more trim of late. Shaking the stray thought from her head, Marceline ignored the tingling heat that was returning to her face. "Hey Finn!', she exclaimed, suddenly, her drastic swing from calm to excited causing her to hiss, slightly. 'Wanna go strangle some pixies?!"

The couch dweller eyed her disinterestedly, scratching at his stomach. The look on his face said he was having none of it. "C'mon Marcy. I haven't fallen for that one since I was like, practically a baby." Marceline crossed her arms, and looked away. "You were 13.', she grumbled, before adding with a whine. 'Finn, I wanna do something!"

"Like what?", he responded, now seemingly focused on a bug which had landed on the window seal.

"I dunno...', she confessed. 'We could go dungeon crawling or find some bandits to beat up.' Finn ALWAYS liked doing those things. 'You're always the one with the head full of adventures."

Finn shrugged again. "I actually feel pretty down with just chillin today. Jake and Lady are on their Cloud Kingdom vay-cay, P-Bubs is at her Science thing all week, and BMO is teaching NPTR how to play Football.', he paused, a dubious shadow growing over his face. 'The less said about that, the better..."

Marceline eyed him curiously. This was not like Finn at all. He was known all throughout Ooo for being an unstoppable force of energy; living for excitement and danger. "Are you... okay? Your'e not sick, are you? You NEVER just wanna chill when you come over." She put a hand to his forehead. It felt warm. Of course it feels warm, genius, she thought to herself. You don't have a pulse. Anything alive is gonna be warm to the touch.

Finn didn't even move, or look at her, he merely shrugged. "Eh, one of those days I guess." The truth was, he DID want to do something. In fact, he had been playing with ideas on a loop for the past hour. So far, nothing had sounded good. At least nothing that he could imagine the pretty vampire being down with. A few of the thoughts in particular flashed through his mind, and this time it was his cheeks that burned. Lucky, he thought, that he was facing away from her and she would not likely notice. He heard her growl and grumble discontentedly, but she said nothing. Finn was beginning to feel bad. After all, it had been his idea to come to her house, and such a visit had most always meant the two would be getting into some sort of mischief. Just taking up space on her furniture made him feel kind of like a burden.

"If that's the way you wanna play it.", she intoned, drifting up, and putting some space between them.

He continued to stare out the window, towards the mouth of the cave for a bit. Watching the rain was calming. So much so, that her words did not sink in until a few moments had passed. Finally, it occurred to him what she had said, and when he turned to look, she was gone. "Huh?' He looked around. 'Marcy?' He sat up, eyeing all corners of the room. She was nowhere to be seen. Sighing loudly, he slid back down into a laying position. 'Poots.", he muttered, annoyed with himself. He laid there for a few moments, though it felt like longer, and stared up at the ceiling. Then, without warning, he heard the flutter of wings, and a large bestial form bolted up-right next to him, growing and contorting from a large, hellish, bat-like creature, into the vampiric vixen he called his friend. This time, she had been quite successful in startling him, and he jumped nearly off the couch.

"Surprise tickle!", she shouted, in a booming double voice matching her inhuman nature. Instinctively, Finn shrieked. This was all he had time to do, and before he could make any move to prepare himself, the Vampire Queen had pinned him to the couch, centering herself firmly on his chest. With her left leg, she brushed his legs towards the inside of the couch, using her weight to keep him from kicking. She then folded her right leg, using her knee to pin his arm that wasn't buried helplessly in the couch cushion, affectively creating a gate for his whole right side, and perfectly hindering his use of that arm. Quicker than even his well-trained eyes could follow, her hands were at his sides; her fingers sliding under his raggedy shirt, and dancing feverishly along his rib cage. He cried out, squirming and wiggling about, but to no avail. The fight was over before it had even started. Unfortunately, Marceline was not in it for a a quick victory. She was in it for the sport.

"Oh...', she cooed, pursing her lips together, playfully. 'Is duh big, bwave hewo ticklish?" She cackled evilly, watching him continue to squirm helplessly, and drinking in his sporadic laughter and unintelligible protests. The playful torment continued for several minutes, before Finn, panting and gasping for air, started frantically slapping at the couch cushion; an enduring sign through the ages that he was prepared to submit. At this, Marceline eased up her attack ever so slightly, but refused to offer him complete respite.

He gasped, sucking in air, between laughs. "Marcy! Marcy! You win! I give! I GIVE! Just... tell me... what you want!"

Her eyes gleamed with triumph. All to easy, she thought, slowing her fingers down until they were still, and stroking her hands up his sides, and back to the outsides of his faded blue shirt, resting them softly on his chest. "Okay, Finn...', she said with a dangerously mischievous smile. 'What I want, is for you to do something for me." She suppressed a snicker.

Still panting, out of breath, and flush with the anxiety of defeat, he managed, in between his labored breathing. "Sure, Marceline. Anything. Just tell me what I have to do."

Perfect. Right into her hand. "Suffer!", she roared, grinning ear to ear. Moving her hands underneath his arms with lightning speed, she began her siege anew, brushing the soft skin of his underarms, and reaching her nails into his sleeve, scratching in a ticklish manner.

The poor human boy shouted helplessly, twitching and laughing. "Nooooooo!", he cried out, though the smile he wore was genuine and sincere.

And just as soon as it had begun, it stopped. Marceline cackled again. "Nah, just teasing! What I REALLY want is for you to get your lazy butt off my couch so we can go do something! I don't care if it's raining. I am NOT gonna spend all day watching you count bugs on the window, or play belly bongos! Now come one!' Though her voice was raised, here words were dripping with mirth, and her smile was one of good spirits. Finn, having been severely weakened by her playful game, trembled slightly, saying nothing, but nodding in agreement. The undead vixen made a mental note of that. Perhaps he was even more ticklish than she had realized... Good, she thought, chuckling inwardly. Lifting a still somewhat dazed Finn completely off the couch, and over to the door, she tossed it open, flying out of the house and towards adventure, with him in tow.


	2. Chapter 2: Into the Storm

Chapter 2: Into the Storm.

Marceline regretted her idea to come outside. With her younger friend dangling beneath her as she carried him with both arms for better balance while flying, the vampire buzzed low to the ground. She opted to stay near the tree line, as it provided only some relief from the rain that had gone from a heavy but steady drizzle, to a torrential downpour. Her tattered grey trench had kept her dark shirt from getting completely soaked, which was good for modesty. Unfortunately, she had nothing to protect her hair which was now sticking wetly to everything it touched, and the coats constant whipping about in the wind meant that the bottom half of her pants were soaked as well. Finn was an even worse sight. He was drenched from head to foot, and she could visibly see the goose pimples on the backs of his legs, from where his old, torn shorts offered no protection from the biting wind or stinging rain. She felt a pang of guilt at noticing the state he was in, as it had been her bright idea to insist that they venture fourth into the weather for no other reason than her own amusement. Worse yet, Finn's drenched fur hat made him smell like a wet bear. Not that he seemed to mind, but Marceline was less than fond of the smell of wet bear.

Dangling like a sack of soggy potatoes, Finn daydreamed about nothing in particular, barely feeling the wind or the rain, and hardly noticing the ground zipping by under his feet. Without warning however, his view changed, and he was swung outward, only then realizing that Marceline had been flying them next to a rather steep, and rather deep gorge. Looking around, now quite focused, he turned as best he could to look behind them, only then hearing her speak up, for the first time in several minutes, save for some occasional grumbling about the rain. "Tree branch.", she explained. It was hardly a lucid account to inform him why he had suddenly been swung over a harrowing drop, but he understood her perfectly. She had swerved to avoid hitting one. Sometimes Finn forgot what an amazing feat of speed, skill, and science-bending magical power it truly to be carried around by a flying mythological creature. As a child, it had been one of the most incredible experiences. Even though he would never admit it to his brother, flying with Marceline was every bit as awesome as riding a magic dog, and maybe a tad more so. Sure Jake could grow to impressive sizes, and his extremely flexible legs made almost anywhere easily accessible, but Marceline. Could. Fly. Truly, it was an admirable quality in a friend. Furthermore, her vampiric strength meant that even now, as he had nearly doubled in height and gained noticeable breadth as well, she could still carry him as if he weighed less than a half full sack of flower. In short, his weight was an afterthought to her. Sometimes it was a wonder to the young man, how she didn't forget she was actually carrying him altogether, and let him slip, when he was quieted by his inattentive mind, as he all to often was.

He continued to dangle in silence for another two miles or so, which, given the speed at which his mode of transport was traveling, blurred by rather quickly. Finally, the drenched hero spoke up. "Hey, Marcy... Where we goin, anyway?" At this, she pointed towards a series of craggy rocks at the base of the nearby mountains, dangling him, momentarily, by one arm. Even after years, it still created a bit of a jumping sensation in his stomach.

"Right up ahead!', she shouted, over the increasingly nasty weather. 'We can find shelter in the cliffs! Even though I guess the weather can't really get much worse!' Just then, a bright flash lit up the gray sky. Marceline groaned in frustration, even as a loud clap of thunder cascaded over them, nearly one with the wind itself. Picking up speed, she flew, full-bore, towards the cliffs, arriving in less than a minute. Gently letting Finn down under a large outcropping on one side, she flew across to the other and began spinning and twirling in mid air, blindingly fast. Water slung in every direction, loudly splattering against the cliff walls and slopping onto the dirt path beneath her. It wouldn't be enough to completely dry her off by any means, but it was likely better than anything that could be done for poor Finn. Off all the times she had forgotten to bring her umbrella. Then again, she thought, landing softly, and staring out at the rain in a mix of wonder and disgust, as fast as she had been flying, it would have been a waste, and unlike her, Finn didn't mind getting a little wet now and then. Even so, she did feel bad for dragging him out into the storm. As if to punctuate her sentiments, another bolt of lighting flashed, and was followed immediately by a loud clap of thunder. She sighed, unable to avoid the tinge of guilt that was eating at her. 'Hey... Finn?", she turned around, and stopped cold.

Having moved from the far corner where he had been dropped off, the young adventurer now sat on a fallen rock slab, roughly in the middle of the sheltered pathway. His shirt and hat had, at some point since she'd left him, come off. The hat lay on the rock next to him, slowly dripping into the dirt, and he clutched his shirt firmly with both hands, twisting it and wringing out the water as best he could. Marceline's breath caught in her throat, and she stared. She couldn't remember the last time his hair had been that long. Though sopping wet, and hugging his shoulders and back, it came down almost to his legs. His bare chest shone slick from the rain, and looking beyond the small waterfall coming from out of his shirt, she noticed that he had a rather defined abdomen. Tickling him earlier, she had felt the hardness of his muscles, but was even then, unable to picture anything but the body of a pale and slightly doughy 13 year old boy. She had certainly not been ready to see such a rugged figure, tanned and toned, as he had grown into. Just then, he turned to look at her. Suddenly, and quite inexplicably, the half demoness found herself self-consciously running her fingers through her hair, trying in vain to straighten the frizzy strands. "Yeah? What's up?", Finn asked, evenly, staring at her with curious, deep blue eyes.

Caught off guard, Marceline turned away. As someone with no pulse, she was beginning to feel fed up with this business of blood rushing up to her face. As for the odd fluttering sensation in her chest, (her heart, if she remembered right), well, that was just going to have to stop! Why was she even feeling so strange about it. It was only Finn, and not like... a real guy, or anything "Marcy?', he called again? Everything alright?" She whirled around, snapping back into the moment. That's right. She had spoken to him. What had she been about to say? She couldn't remember.

"N-nothing!", she stammered, louder than she had intended too, turning away again, and focusing on the view. They were higher up than she realized, and Marceline would have been able to see for quite a ways, if not for the rain. She wasn't sure if Finn was going for her weak attempt to redact the conversation before it started, but judging by his silence, he wasn't going to press her. After a few moments, the rapid dripping and splattering of him wringing out his shirt subsided, and she heard a wet slap reverberate off the stone walls. She could only guess this meant he had thrown it onto the rock. for the time. After enjoying the view some more, she turned around, this time ready for the sight of Finn's adult body... Or so she thought until she saw him standing there in nothing but his striped boxers, with his his shorts firmly in hand, and being wrung out into the puddle that his shirt had made. Marceline said nothing. She didn't jerk, or move, or make any sound of protest. She merely blinked rapidly, as if the very sight were nothing more than an illusion created by something in her eyes. When she had failed to de-age the young man from the chiseled, lean, warrior, back to the squishy 13 year old she was convinced the man before her was hiding, she silently turned around, sighed, and allowed the stagnant blood to paint her face the bright shade of red she knew it must be. Okay... she thought, calmly. Your body wants you to blush. Whatevs. No big deal. There was a pause, as she allowed her mind time to collect the overflow of buzzing thoughts, and make some sense of them. It did so in short order, and produced a new thought which she tried desperately to suppress, but was barely able to filter into a less drastic, more conservative thought. She stole a glance back at the human, who was now gripping his pants with both hands, shaking them up and down and watching the water fly off. Okay, Marcy, she told herself. You might... MIGHT... she paused, not wanting to continued the thought. It continued itself for her. You MAY of MAY NOT have to deal with the fact that Finn... yes, THAT Finn, MAY, or MAY NOT, be- she cut herself off, physically shaking her head. Nope! Not going there! It's Finn, for Grodssake! FINN! Regardless of what was buried deep within him, or what he looked like, he was literally just a stupid mortal! He was her friend, sure, but mortals were mostly for amusement; like younger siblings, she supposed. Furthermore, when she had first met Finn, she had designated him as prime minion material. A minion could never be... The girls thoughts trailed off, and by and by, she became aware that Finn had stopped wringing out his clothes and was staring out into the rain, a strange and unsettling focus and intensity in his eyes.

"Marcy...", he intoned, his voice low, and wary.

"What is it, Finn?', she asked, gladly accepting anything to take her mind off the internal struggle in her head. In response to her, the nearly naked warrior said nothing, but merely looked up into the rain and clouds. She followed his gaze, but saw nothing except the wet and grey of Ooo's rainy season. 'What?!", she pushed again, growing impatient. Again, Finn said nothing. He simply held his hand up, closing his eyes, and standing far more still, and far more focused than she could ever remember having seen him.

She shuffled her feet, restlessly. "Quite!", he hissed, just as another flash of lighting briefly illuminated them in a pale glow, and a loud clap of thunder, shook the very stone of the mountain. He probably hadn't meant to sound as harsh as he had; he was very clearly deep in concentration. Even so, Marceline wanted to growl in frustration. She wanted to take him by the hand, toss him over the cliff and into the rain, catch him by the leg and then shake him till words came out. Instead, she quietly acquiesced, standing still, and silent, watching him. She had never seen him in such a state of perfect concentration; so resolute and undistracted. In her mind, he should be finding a rhythm in the rain dripping onto the rocks, wetly spitting a beat, and banging the pommel of one of his swords into the rock, refusing to stop until she surrendered her vocal talents to make his nonsensical noise into a song. Instead, he was being patient, and focused. What had happened to the boy who had been lazily slapping his gut on her couch, the boy she had known since his childhood? What had become of the boy who had made six years; a footnote in her enduring and seemingly endless lifespan, seem like a lifetime all it's own.

The weird thoughts were creeping in again. Then there was another flash of lighting. Then there was another clap of thunder. Then she finally heard what he had been listening for. Right there, on the end of the thunder clap, there was another noise. It was so much like the thunder, that even her superior vampire ears had trouble distinguishing it. Had Finn, a mortal, really noticed it before her? She wanted to be embarrassed with herself, but curiosity, both at what it was, and how he had picked up on it so quickly, left no room for the useless sentiment. More wind, more rain, then the lightening, then the thunder, and then the sound came again. A low, but clipped thud, as if something very large and very heavy had taken a hard step. Marceline was one of the only vampires in Ooo, and quite possibly one of the only left on the entire planet. What's more, she was the daughter of the ruler of the entire Nightosphere, and it's unquestioned heiress. Very few things sent a shiver down her spine. That sound; a sound that she had not heard since a time before Finn, was one them.

Standing next to her, the young male smiled, his eyes shooting open, now full of a burning intensity. His body quivered in excitement. "Finally', he muttered, under his breath. Without even seeing him move, he had retrieved his backpack. 'Marcy...', he said, his voice jovial, yet inexplicably dangerous. 'I think we just found that adventure you wanted."

She wanted to tell him not to be stupid. She wanted to tell him that there were things he didn't understand. But the look in his eye said he knew exactly what was going on. And he was more than prepared... He was ready. Marceline told herself that she was ready as well. She was certainly prepared. But she knew all to well what was coming, and it had always been one of her least favorite things to confront.

There was another flash of lighting, another rumble of thunder, and then another, louder noise, this time, audibly separate from the other sounds of the weather. That was when the first storm giant to appear in Ooo in over 90 years, broke the misty veil of clouds and rain, hurtling towards them.


	3. Chapter 3: The Advancing Giant

To my few, but enthusiastic readers, I sincerely apologize. For far to long, have you waited for the next chapter in this story that I started as a mere whim. For far to long have you been neglected, as I have set idly by, unable to dig deep enough to find the motivation and inspiration to produce more. To make matters worse, this is a somewhat shorter chapter. To further compound, I can't say for sure when the next one will be. Honestly, I'm still not even sure where I'm going with this. Nevertheless, here it is at long last; Chapter 3. Please enjoy.

Chapter 3: The Advancing Giant.

Marceline sat on the rock, staring out into the rain. She no longer felt like floating freely. Her mind was far to heavy with the burden of processing what she had just witnessed. A few yards away, Finn, still in his boxers and shivering slightly, held out the canteen he had brought along, slowly letting it fill with rainwater. At his feet were scattered ashes that he kicked at lazily; all that remained of the storm giant. The spectacle that had just unfurled had been a true marvel that, even in the vampires exciting life with her adventurous friends, did not occur often in Ooo. The human male; a skilled swordsman and deceptively clever warrior since before she had known him, had displayed skill and finesse, the likes of which would have made even the great warrior Billy, beam with pride. And yet, Finn had been fortunate on this day. He had fought but one of the titans of fables lost, and it hadn't even been among the larger ones. Even with her assistance, (which had been limited, given her unshakable shock and stunned disbelief), the fight had taxed the young warrior, considerably. Though he acted calm, and appeared collected, she could hear his heart pounding. He controlled his breathing well, however, and soon his pulse was back to normal. Saying nothing, he continued to fill his canteen up till the amount of water within was satisfactory, at which point he drank heartily. He remained silent for some time, which was uncharacteristic, however apropos. Furthermore, it gave Marceline time to reflect on all that she had just witnessed.

When the beast had appeared, the clouds themselves seemed to split with thunder, and it hurled straight towards them, it's eyes gray like the clouds from whence it had appeared, sparking with the power of lightning. It had crashed into the rock right at the human's feet, sending debris everywhere. Shaking through the hesitation, Marceline had leapt forward, accelerating rapidly, and twisting around, aiming her boot right at the monsters head. One kick, and she could send it careening down the mountainside. Whether or not this would destroy the creature she was uncertain, and doubted it would. However, such an attack would buy her and the human time to retreat, or at least find a better place to fight. Being firmly stuck between a rock and a Storm Giant was not a favorable scenario. One kick, and she could alter the odds how she liked. The boot connected, but not to it's target. The creature saw her coming, and with amazing speed, grabbed her foot, tossing her over the cliff. Even as it touched her, a force of energy coursed through the vampires body, tightening her muscles, shaking her very bones. For a moment, her ancient heart, long still, attempted rhythm. It was incredibly painful. It was also incredibly disorienting, and she plummeted dangerously far.

Seeing this, Finn cried out. "Marceline!" The monster turned it's attention to him as he ran up, and succeeded in delivering a kick square in its chin. Unfortunately, the force was not enough to cause it to loose it's grip digging into the craggy rock, nor to cause serious damage to it's face. It merely grinned at him blankly, and roared. It was a chilling sound; the unearthly pitch, and booming volume of which made even the seasoned warrior go rigid in discomforted surprise. He had no time for fear, however, as the new opponent began climbing up to greet him, taking a large, deceptively fast swipe as it did so. Tumbling to his left, Finn hit the dirt, rolling onto his back, spinning at the same time and managing to kick his backpack off the rock it had been laying on. He then dove behind it, narrowly avoiding the monsters foot as it came down fast and hard, booming like thunder and leaving a spider web crack in the stone. He grabbed the sack and rolled out from behind it, even as the Storm Giant picked it up with a single hand, tossing it indifferently off the cliffside, his clothes drifting out of site along with it. For the first time, the human got a good look at his enemy. It stood at roughly 9 feet, nearly the height of the outcropping itself. It had pale, grey skin, similar in color to Marceline's, but cloudier, and with visible veins coursing with black blood. It's face looked human-esque, but did not appear to have any intelligence. It's impossibly large mouth wore a fixed and hideous grin. It's long hair was wiry and white with a bluish tint. Truly it was a horrifying visage, though he did not allow himself ample time to inspect it, as it continued to attack him with the speed and force that belied conviction, yet carried an air of indifference. It's gangly limbs struck fast, and he was only able to dodge the first two strikes. The third connected with his arm, spinning him completely around. This was serious. Finn knew from the amount of force, and from the fact that his feet had barely been on the ground when being struck that a direct hit would have broken something. The fight had to end, and soon. Thinking quickly and acting quicker, he used the momentum to turn his back to the giants arm, bracing himself against it. His body tingled from the mere touch. As it reached to grab him, he pulled a knife from a loop on the outside of his pack, plunging it into the monsters hand. It roared in what he could only guess was pain, but barely slowed down. He had expected the attack to do more, but the time it bought him was only just enough. Finn ducked down, rolling backwards, and frantically tearing open the flap on his backpack.

...

Though still in a daze, Marceline had managed to slow her decent. The rain served as a double-edged sword. It's cold and frigid assault drove her to shake the tingling numbness and pain from her body. It also fed and agitated the lingering current that now made her hairs stand on end, but at least she had managed to drift back up towards the cliff from which she had been so crudely tossed. Her plan, as she was by and by regaining enough cognizance to formulate one, was to take advantage of the fact that the monster seemed to now be focused entirely on it's mortal adversary, and put sufficient space between them to gain enough momentum for a more effective attack. When she saw the fight unfolding however, it had more than distracted her. Finn was barely even attacking. He was merely avoiding it, or nearly so, with a series of surprisingly dexterous rolls and tumbles. He managed to stab it square in the hand with little effect, but even that had seemed less like an attack strategy, and more a delay to put distance between him and the beast. What happened next was, quite literally, legendary, and would have left her breathless if her lungs were operational.

With nothing more than a moments pause gained from driving a blade into the giants hand, the hero had ducked under its arm, rolled back a mere two yards away, reached into the tattered old sack, and pulled out the empty hilt of a sword. The vampire stared at it, her mind hazy, as if a part of her recognized it, but was instinctively in such disbelief that her eyes could not physically comprehend it. The empty hilt was almost a foot in length, and wrapped from pommel to guard in faded brown leather. Both the pommel and guard appeared similar to, yet different from cast-iron, and were ornately wrapped with bluish wire. On each there were several deep crimson jewels, darker than any ruby, and as smooth as polished pearls. Slowly, what Marceline was staring at began to dawn on her; a hilt of unknown metal with no blade, bejeweled with fine red stones. As if Finn, or his edgeless weapon, or both were reading her mind, a soft blue glow began to rise up from hilts empty hole from which the blade should have been protruding. An unknown energy, separate from the gusts of the storm whipped his hair about. and smoke began pouring from the hilt.

The Storm giant noticed it too, staring in confusion. From inside the smoke, a blue light grew brighter, spewing fourth, almost blinding. Then, it subsided, condensing and taking shape into what looked like a blade. The hilt had forged a blade out of pure light! Of course, Marceline told herself it was impossible, just as she had the last time she had seen it, nearly 400 years ago. She had little time to dwell on this turn of events, as the towering monster, remembering itself, lunged at Finn. With one large arm grabbing straight for his face, the other swiping at his legs, and too little room to appropriately counter either attack, he leapt backwards, narrowly avoiding having his skull squished like a jelly-filled balloon. This shook the demoness out of her awe as well, and she remembered her plan. Even if what she was seeing was real, even if Finn really was wielding the ancient weapon, he would still have a serious fight on his hands. And silly mortal or not, Marceline wasn't about to let a friend go unaided in the heart of battle. Grod, she had definitely been spending too much time with the goodie-goodie human.

Back on the cliff side, Finn took short, controlled swings and the Storm Giant, trying to bide his time to find a good opening without over extending himself. He was far from worn down, but he also knew that this particular fight would offer very little in the way of opportunities. He dodged another strike, this one nearly knocking him straight off the cliff, and sending rubble tumbling down the mountainside. Taking advantage of the beasts forward reach, he slipped behind it, but was marginally too slow, and it whirled around, grabbing him by the torso and slamming him hard into the side of the cliff. He gasped, dazed. The hit had taken the air right out of his lungs, and shaken him all the way to his teeth. Some of his newer ones; the ones that Princess Bubblegum had forced him to buy with his own treasure, as a means to discourage him from his nasty habit of biting rocks, felt as though they might come loose. His body ached and his head spun, but he fought with sheer force of will to regain his composure and fight back. Through a combination of instinct and dumb luck, he saw a blur directly in front of his face, and turned his head, narrowly avoiding a strike that penetrated the very stone beside him. The giant had punched a hole in solid stone, and it made a sound like thunder. The sound was all he needed to snap him back into the fight. In the next moments, everything happened at once. Finn breathed in, forcing the cold, wet and thick air back into his lungs. The monster jerked it's hand from the rock wall, sending chunks of stone bouncing off the back of Finn's head, even as it drew back for another, strike, this time, determined not to miss. As it did so, the young hero caught a glimpse of movement behind the monstrosity, darting to the left. Without looking, he knew it's trajectory. Closing his eyes in concentration, and gripping the hilt of his light blade tightly, Finn thrust it out to his right, away from the creature. It thrust it's powerful hand towards his face for the killing blow, but never had time to connect. Just then, Marceline struck the creatures head at full speed. It's neck bent to the side, it's body following. Briefly loosing control of it's reflexes, it let go of Finn, and he turned his body, swinging the mystic sword inward and towards the giants torso. It connected and penetrated. He gripped the bottom with his other hand, putting every bit of force he had into the swing, slicing the adversary in half like hot butter. As it flew towards the other end of the shelter, roaring in anger and confusion, hot, fowl smoke plumed from its wound, electricity crackling in the air. It hit the wall with a final shriek, and exploded in a cloud of dust, and smoke, and lighting, and thunder. Finn landed, wobbly, but unharmed, and opened his eyes. Marceline touched down softly, a few yards away. The two stared at each other, saying nothing.

`The rain continued in a gentle and rhythmic beating against the rock, falling softer now. The wind, lightning and thunder, gone, all that remained was a gentle and steady rain. The storm had passed for the moment, but both knew that it was but a precursor of things to come. Finn felt a tickle in his throat, and an odd sensation in the back of his nose.

"Achoo!"

Marceline sighed, though more from exasperation than guilt. "Great...", she muttered, to herself, watching sympathetically, as the hero wiped his glistening nose with the back of his hand. Shaking off the sneeze, and walking awkwardly, fighting the shivers which now plagued him, he bent over, reaching into the tattered back pack, pulling out his canteen. Kicking lazily at the scattered dust, he extended the apparatus into the drizzling rain, and began to fill it.


End file.
